


Scarred Beauty

by DanteSunbreaker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28277388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanteSunbreaker/pseuds/DanteSunbreaker
Summary: When Boba is feeling a bit insecure about his appearance after surviving the Sarlacc pit, Y/N has to convince him how handsome he really is.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Male Reader, Boba Fett/Reader, Boba Fett/Trans Reader, Boba Fett/Transmale Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	Scarred Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Once again making a very self indulgent fic. If anyone actually likes these, let me know. I really want to get back into writing more often and I'd love to be able to provide more content for other trans readers out there.

Most evenings Y/N spends his time relaxing in his favorite bounty hunter’s personal quarters, and tonight is no exception. Y/N lies shirtless across the bed, reclined back into the expanse of lush pillows and blankets. There are a few perks with being partnered to one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy, though it about gets outweighed by the amount of danger it also entails. 

With a loud fwoosh, the door to the room opens and in steps the bounty hunter still in full beskar. Normally, Boba would have his helmet off before entering the room so that he could kiss Y/N upon entrance. But today the dented helmet is still in place. Tension seems to waft off Boba’s stiff form as he passes straight past the bed to the refresher.

“Boba, how was your day?” Y/N crawls towards the foot of the bed. Peaking into the refresher, he spots the bounty hunter leaning over the sink and staring directly into the mirror without taking off his helmet. “Did something go wrong?”

All Y/N gets in response is a long sigh as Boba lowers his gaze. Clearly whatever is bothering Boba is something that he doesn’t want to talk about. At least without Y/N coaxing it out of him.

Barefooted, Y/N pads across the floor until he stands directly behind the fearsome bounty hunter, hands gently moving to rest on the back of his shoulders. At first Boba tenses under Y/N’s touch but gradually relaxes. As the tension ebbs away Y/N’s arms work slowly work their way around Boba’s thick waist. 

“Talk to me, handsome,” Y/N’s cheek rests against the back of Boba’s armor, thankful that the usual jetpack is not still attached. “I can tell something is bothering you.”

At the word handsome, Boba lets out a dry humorless laugh. “Handsome? I don’t think so,” Boba straightens up, resting one hand over top of Y/N’s at his waist. “At least not anymore. I’m too old and have more scars than I’d like to count.”

“Mmm nonsense,” Y/N hums as he squeezes Boba tighter, the cold beskar pressing roughly into his cheek. But he doesn’t care. “You are in your early forties, Boba. That isn’t old,” Boba only grunts in response. “And I’ve got scars too. You see these big gnarly scars on my chest nearly everyday.”

Boba gives Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze. He knows what Y/N is trying. Somehow Y/N always manages to cheer up the grumpy bounty hunter, no matter how much resistance he puts up. 

“But your scars are beautiful. They are a reminder of your journey towards becoming who you were always meant to be,” despite being in a poor mood, Boba still holds a touch of affection in his gruff tone.  
“Look at me, Boba.”

Y/N pushes and pulls at Boba’s shoulders until the bounty hunter begrudgingly turns to face Y/N, still locked in his arms. Gingerly, Y/N reaches up and caresses the hollowed cheeks of Boba’s helmet with a fond tenderness. Y/N’s eyes have a beautiful longing shine in them as he stares into the black visor. Hooking his fingers under the edge of the helmet, Y/N carefully lifts the beskar helmet slowly enough that Boba could stop him if he wanted. But he makes no moves to stop Y/N. When the helmet is fully removed, Y/N sets it down on the sink edge.

“Your scars are just as beautiful as you think mine are,” Y/N’s hands cup Boba’s cheeks, thumbs smoothing over raised scar tissue. His eyes hold nothing but admiration as he gazes at the face before him. “These scars are your badge for making it out of the Sarlacc pit alive. You got these by being strong enough to make it back to me alive.”

One thumb traces over Boba’s lower lip. Y/N presses his soft lips to Boba’s chapped ones in a chaste but affectionate kiss. Boba’s hands grab at Y/N’s hips and he tries to keep Y/N there as he pulls away.

“Let me finish,” Y/N chuckles as he feels the insistent tugging, knowing Boba craves more kisses. “Boba, I’ll never see these scars as anything less than beautiful. When I thought you had died, I would have given anything just to get you back. Then you came back to me. Sure, you were different but I could really care less. You will always be the most handsome man in my life.”

Though Boba is not a man known for showing his emotions, Y/N has gotten to know the man well enough to read him. The soft tender look in those warm brown eyes display the emotion that Boba’s face otherwise hides. One of Boba’s thick arms slides back around Y/N’s waist, dragging his hips forward to lessen the space between them.

“I know you would have given anything, little one,” the hand that isn’t resting against the small of Y/N’s back reaches up to grab Y/N’s chin as his cheeks flush at the nickname. “I did give everything to make it back to you Y/N. Thoughts of you are what drove me to keep going, to keep pushing past the pain. You are the reason I am standing here today.”

Warmth radiates from Y/N’s smile, his cheeks a burning pink as he leans in to press his lips against his partners. Both Y/N’s hands continue to cup Boba’s cheeks while Boba moves his other arm around Y/N’s waist to drag him up against his chest. The way Boba’s now slightly rounded and softer stomach presses against Y/N always makes him melt into the bounty hunter’s arms. Y/N loves that there is more Boba for him to love. The added soft layer over Boba’s muscle just makes Y/N love cuddling him even more.

“I love you, Boba, all of you,” Y/N breathes as they finally break from their kiss, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together. “Thank you for returning to me.”

“I love you too, little one.”


End file.
